The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1887-10-21

with music and again the girl sat in
the shadows drinking in the sounds
that to her were the sweetest thing
that she knew.
Down over the hillside the master of
the rustic railroad station stood palsied
with astonishment He had barely
recovered from the semi-paralysis that
had beset him when he beheld Guy
alight from that same train three
months. before, and he was totally I'M
prepared for the advent of these latest
arrivals, this quartette of elegantly
attired men and women who, consider
ably entertained by his embarrassment,
were inquiring of him the name of the
best hotel.
There was only one, he told them,
finally, and he would be happy to drive
them to it in his own wagon if they
would wait while he closed his Office,
for that was the last train tonight.
/ They waited, and a lank, shock-headed
boy was sent in quest of the vehicle.
Comfortably ensconced within its
roomy depths, the little party fell to
! cOnversIng gaily. Il know 1 am
right" asserted one of the women,
positively. She was a magnificent
creature. robust of physique, with
magnificent head set upon a throat
that for fullness and wilderness would
have filed sculptor's heart with de-
! light. Her companions laughed
| lightly; they were unconvinced, but
willing to humor her, and begged their
host to proceed.
They neared the church, and great
light of triumph leaped into the
woman's magnificent eyes. s'FOundr'
she exclaimed, and sank back with a
little gasp of delight. Then she laid
her Acknowledgment hand on the Won
dering drivers arm. Stop here,
please" she said.
As they entered the church, noise
lessly, leaving the station-agent to
wait outside and speculate hopelessly
as to their mission, the girl arose
| quickly, conscious in some way of the
approach of an unhappy element. She
| opened her lips to speak, but turned
again and shrank back into her seat
Then from the organ-loft came the
plaintive prelude of PaOlo Tosti's
Goodbye" a song about which so
many tender memories of the lovers
hinged. The singers voice came forth.
superb, mighty, tender, and the bosom
of the woman who had led the way
into the church rose and fell in her
triumph. She, too, knew the song and
knew the singer.
Good-by summer,
! GoOd-by, gOOd-by,
| carOlled the unconscious minstrel in
L. Il II,
melody he was creating, and his aud
itors stood silent, waiting for the end.
The end was coming. From some
| caprice or impulse the singer chose to
let his voice die away as the glorious
climax of the song was reached, but
his fingers still wandered over the
| keys in pursuit of the air. Then the
tall, splendid woman below stepped
forward, parted her lips, and took up
! the strain where he had relinquished it:
| All the to-morrows
Shall be as to-day
| she sang, in a full, rich soprano
that echoed and swelled like an
inspiration through the little sanct-
uary. The singer above knew
the voice. The organ died into silence
with wall of discOrds, and there was
heard the sound of a man leaping head
long down the stairway.
He reached the aisle, and with one
swift glance comprehended all. "Why
are you here?" he painted, hoarsely.
"SpeaS, and quickly, in Gods namew
You ask me thatP" said the woman,
smiling upon him with very heaven
of tenderness, all her beauty en-
HANGED by the CLEAN of her great
eyes in the twilight; II am here be-
cause-why should l not tell it here,
before your friends and mine?-be-
cause ] love you"
Needless, forgetful, conscious only
of the knowledge he a year ago would
have bartered an eternity to gain, he
sprang forward and clasped her wildly
in his arms.
As they all left the church together
none of them observed the girl stand
ing mute and white in the great pew
but little more than an arms reach
away. Long after the door had
changed behind them she stood so, gaz-
ing forward into vacancy with fearless
eyes.
'tOrSeJ me, ne wrote. 'Sne was
more to me than l knew I have
wronged you bitterly-too bitterly to
ask or hope for forgiveness. But 1
could not stay and let my whole life
with you be a lie. She can do with me
what she will, and yield. God knows
I wish you happiness Goodbye"
No wretch of the galleys was ever
more securely shackled than he. Did
he regret it? He could not tell, but
though every day she babe him go if
he so chose, he did not. And here. to-
night, at his own table, amidst his own
friends, she was jibing at him on a sub
iecthe had begged Of her, rs she val
ued his peace, to let rest.
1t was after the opera where they
had both tasted anew of the triumph
that seemed all the sweeter by reason
of the charms its comparative nov
I city had lent to it. And they
were all here at his house,
gay, witty Bohemians, every one Of
| them, presenting company of which
every second member was the possess
or of genius in some guise or other.
Tragedians, singers, poet or two and
= trio of scholarly critics from the
great daily newspapers were there,
i and all were listening with vast appre-
citation to the raillery of the brilliant
, woman, the queen of prima donnas,
who sat at the foot of the table.